


Do I Belong Here: Outlast

by Whatadream24



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: AU Highschool, Andrew is the Creepy Counselor, Eddie POV at times, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Language, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Misogyny, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Past Violence, Sexual Content, This WILL be Continued!!, Violence, Waylon POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 22:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3334880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatadream24/pseuds/Whatadream24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mount Massive High seems like your typical high school but for a certain student, it's anything but.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ~I never EVER made an AU fanfiction and this is the first! It's kind of hard for me to go out of the story line but like I said in the tags, this story will play tricks on your mind XD hope you enjoy it!

Today is the first day of my senior year and I can't be anymore pissed and exhausted just knowing that. There is a good amount of sunshine so that seems to soften my mood a little bit. I finally find a spot to park this beat up truck of mine in the back of the school, next to some old silver camaro and cut the engine. I stare out the windshield and watch all of the dumbasses make their way into the building, chit-chatting like annoying little squirrels. Girls in their short skirts and guys in their nike basketball shorts, god what kind of style is that?

 

Just thinking about that makes me look down at myself, making sure I am wearing something presentable. A fade blue polo and pair of American Eagle jeans with a hole in the right knee, dirty converse on my feet and a half-decent watch around my wrist; I guess I can say I don't look my best but I know I look a lot better than half the students in Mount Massive.

 

After my moment of silent judging I leave the truck and the door shuts with a creak that can be heard for miles. That's what I get for buying a vehicle from some dude I don't even know. Oh Lisa, you are sweet baby, but your advise is just awful.

Making my way between the cars, I remove my cell from my back pocket and the time reads 7:46 across the screen. I shove it back in my pocket and keep to myself as I head towards the building. No Miles and surprisingly no Lisa, they are usually here before me and greet me with awkward hugs and annoying words. A sigh passes my lips and I scratch at the back of my neck; the sun is already creating too much heat and the day hasn't even started yet. I groan and that's when I hear somebody shout from behind me and before I can even blink, Lisa is right up on me, literally, with her arms wound around my neck. At least it's Lisa and not Miles being a dick.

 

She kisses my cheek and jumps off, stepping to the side of me. "Hey!" she says with a smile and all I can do is return the gesture, a fake one is okay, right? "So, are you excited, this is our final year can you believe it!" Lisa seems a little too ecstatic at the moment and it's kind of making me woozy. I cough into my hand and nod. 

"Sure," is all I have to say before meeting up with Miles at the front door. Miles is talking to this new girl he's been trying to get with since the end of last year, Caitlyn is her name...I think? She's too much of a sweet, quiet girl for someone as crazy and loud as Miles. When Lisa and I catch his attention, he pats the blond girl on the shoulder just before she heads into the school and turns to us. He cracks a cocky smile and puts his arm around my shoulders. 

 

I jerk at the contact but accept it. "It's the last year of high school, I'm pretty psyched!" Miles tells me and gives me a good shake. I nod my head and move from underneath his arm. Lisa stares at the both of us and rolls her eyes. 

"Stop being such a downer Waylon, at least try to enjoy it, for me," Lisa suggests with a soft smile and she kisses my cheek with one of her warm hands around my wrist. I can't stop the smile from forming against my lips. She's the sweetest girl I have ever met and I am glad to know that she's all mine. I nod my head again and put my comfortably arm around her. 

 

Miles watches us and leads us inside with an annoying pep in his step.

 

.

 

Mount Massive is a pretty good sized school so it puzzles me that there aren't as many kids as I expected my freshman year. The long hallways are quiet and almost unoccupied with just a few kids chatting at their lockers. Each year I swear the classes get smaller.

 

Lisa and I walk down A-hall conjoined at the hips and I stop at her locker. Miles breaks away from us with a hard pat on my back and a smile. Maybe Miles is the reason for my mood all the damn time. "It makes me kind of sad that we only have two classes together," Lisa admits with a fake pout, opening her locker. I smile and stare at her, taking in her amazing shape and the cute little aquamarine dress she has on; thin straps and converse always look sexy on her. 

 

I put a hand on one of my hips and lean against her locker. She pulls out her history book and closes her locker with a big smile on her face. I frown at her, confused at the weird expression on her cute face. "What is with that creepy look?" I ask, teasing her of course but still a tad confused. Lisa usually is happy but never this damn happy. 

 

She puts her free hand over my chest and digs her fingers into my shirt. "I am just glad you're mine," she says to me and her words make my heart pound and my face heat up. I almost instantly perk up at those words and smile. I lean into kiss her and it's just a little peck. She giggles and it makes me fidget. Damn her and her fucking cute ways. I look down at my watch and we say our goodbyes before splitting up. Fuck, I still need to get to my locker, uh!

 

Seeing that there are still some kids wandering the halls, I sprint all the way to my locker which is down B-hallway and I get stopped by Miles. Why the hell is he always at my locker? 

 

"So, what class do you have first?" he asks totally nonchalant and not bothered by the look I give him. I calm my breathing and put in my combination, trying to ignore him. He nudges me in the side with his elbow and it makes me hiss. "Science, what class do you have?" I take in a deep breath and tell him, pulling out my science book along with my sketch book. He looks me up and down and I cringe, slamming my locker closed. 

"History, geez dude, no reason to get so violent," Miles teases me, throwing his arms in the air. I release all the hot air I have been holding in and wander off down the hallway, alone! He's probably still leaning against my locker but I don't care, he just gets on my damn nerves. On my way to room 23B I am stopped yet again but this time it's not by Miles.

 

"Mr. Park," principle Jeremy Blaire says with a smile, hands shoved into the front of his black dress pants. I mentally kick myself in the back of the fucking head and stand up straight. "I see you're late to class again, what's with that, you used to be a great on-time student?" he explains himself with a fake saddened look; like me being on time really matters that much to him. I just look down at my books and shrug. 

 

"I don't know, not getting enough sleep I guess," I answer him with a half-lie because sometimes it really is hard for me to get my ass to sleep. He stares at me for a moment before blinking and turning his frown into a smile. "Well, you better get to class, don't want to be ten minutes late," Mr. Blaire states tapping his fingers against the face of his watch. Uh fuck him! I swear, he has something against me, every year he picks on me for no real reason.

 

I run to class. As soon as I am face to face with the door, I turn the door knob and force myself inside. The room is big and still there are never enough kids in this class to fill it up. Science is one of my favorite classes; everyone is talking so loud and their conversations bounce off the old walls. 

 

In the back of the room, I see Billy Hope, one of my old friends talking to some dude. I pick a seat at the middle table and drop my books hard on the metal table top. The thud of my books doesn't even seem to draw any attention. I sit down and open up my sketch book. The bell rings and it scares the shit out of me, making me drop my pencil. Luckily, the guy next to me sees it and picks it up. "That bell scares me too, every time," he tells me and I just fake up a good smile and take the pencil. 

 

I stare at my watch and then the door opens. Oh lord, what kind of drug is he on today? Mr. Trager walks into the room with his shoulders back and his head up high, arms crossed behind his back. He's definitely one of my favorite teachers, he's very intelligent but he's also very strange in a good way. He gets picked on a lot by the students who think they're so much fucking better than everyone else but he takes it great. I like him and he's always interesting. 

 

"Hello class, how was everyone's summer break?" he asks, brushing off his dirty white lab jacket, and pulling his hair back into a ponytail. Some answer him with happy smiles and the rest just mumble and slam their heads onto the table. 

"My mom took me to this one circus last month," Sarah, one of the nerds chimes in, pushing up her glasses with her finger. Oh so many stereotypical students in this building. She's cute but too much for me. Mr. Trager smiles at her and fixes his own glasses. "Very fun Sarah, now how about we start off the new year with an interesting project?" Mr. Trager informs us students; I am excited to hear what he has to say about this project but half the students go 'UGH WHYYYY!' because they don't want to learn anything. All teenagers these days want to fuck strangers and get high on meth. A few of us really want to learn something. 

"This year we will be dissecting a domestic animal," Mr. Trager starts and the idea of his already sounds spooky. Some of the girls whimper and I laugh to myself. "A cat is what we will be using but," oh damn, he said but, come on, get on with it. "You will be learning how to make it into your own creation," now that's just totally confusing. What the hell does he mean by that? 

 

A lot of 'huhs' and 'what's' fill the silence of the room. "I have enough cats for each and every one of you and the project will not begin until next month, I will then explain it so you all understand!" he explains and fixes his glasses again, giving me a startling stare. 

 

I find this project very weird and disturbing; where does he go to get these animals? Are they just strays he finds himself out on the street? Whatever it is, I guess I won't know until next month. How he said dissecting, maybe that is his way of trying not to sound like such a creep, we've dissected things before, like a few fishes, they were all pretty good size but nothing like a cat, that just sounds very insane. As the room goes silent and blank, Mr. Trager removes his big book of crazy shit and slams it down on top of his desk. 

The sound startles everyone and I hold back a laugh. "I will be writing some questions up on the board and you will have to answer them correctly for me," he announces with a half smile and turns his back on us to begin his writing. 

While he does so, I open up my sketch book again and start to doodle random things that pop into my head. He finishes and Sarah is the first to answer one of them. They are strange science questions dating back from the 18th century but pretty easy for someone who knows things, like me. Billy answers a couple as well. I just love making the jocks jealous; they are all total dumbasses. 

 

.

 

The bell rings at the end of class. Billy and I are the last ones out the door. "Hey, how are you?" he breaks the silence I keep along side me and I give him a faint smile. "H-hey," I haven't talked to him in a long time, I usually try to avoid him because he's a little awkward and different but I don't dislike him.

He runs a hand over his buzzed head and looks down at me. "I can't believe you and Lisa are still together," he wonders and that's the thing that I don't really like about him. He has to be nosey and get into my damn business. I nod my head twice and scratch the side of my face. Billy is different in a lot of ways; he wears clothing that look like they are made for mormons, he's too nice and he just makes no sense sometimes. 

He still tries to talk though. "What's your next class?" he asks and stays very patient. I pick up the pace a bit down the hall to my locker and there's Lisa and Miles, waiting for me. "Uh, gym I think," I hurry up and give him an honest answer and say bye fairly quickly before bursting off into a jog. Once I get to my locker, Lisa gives me a sweet hug and kiss on the cheek and Miles pats me on the back as hard as he can. 

 

"So, is Mr. Trager still creepy?" Lisa asks, crossing her arms against her chest. I nod without saying a word, opening my locker. "Definitely," I say and put my books back into my locker before closing it. My locker is kind of rusted and creaky but I am used to it, my truck makes the same sound every damn day. Lisa brushes back her wavy brown hair and gives me one last kiss before grabbing my arm. 

"Next class?" she asks abruptly right as Miles was about to say something; oh she's too funny. "Gym," I tell her and she jumps up and down with my arm still in her grip. Miles looks at us funny and rests his hands over his hips. 

"I have fucking art, ugh!" Miles groans and makes a fake gagging sound. I kind of snicker and Lisa gives him a punch to the shoulder. "Shut up, that's one of my favorite classes," she growls at Miles who rubs his sore shoulder. I am too busy smiling to realize what they are talking about anymore. A dirty smile then reappears on Miles's lips and he jams his hands into the front pockets of his pleather jacket. 

 

"You want to get into that weirdo teacher's pants too, you are just like all the other girls, I'd watch out Waylon, she's on the prowl," he imitates some kind of animal growl and rakes his nails down my chest like a moron. I push him away and then walk away with Lisa on my arm. 

 

I shake my head at Miles's words that race through my mind. "Hey, don't listen to him, he's just an asshole, you know that," she coos so sweetly and runs her hand up and down my arm. I swallow and smile down at her. "I know," I believe her and I want to beat the shit out of Miles for even saying that but it is true, a lot of the girls in this school have a thing for Mr. Gluskin. He's the most strangest teachers I know and I guess I can see why they like him so much but ew, he's like in his late thirties. 

I shake Miles stupidity out of my thoughts and head to the gymnasium with Lisa along side me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Already my second update and I think I really liked this one. I hope you readers enjoy it too!

Art class, finally. It's the end of the day and I have Lisa at my side for the remaining hour. We each stop at our lockers, grab our sketchbooks and head to room 27M. It's a long way down but we manage to make it in time. Lisa steps into the room ahead of me and picks a seat in the front of the class. I look around and see empty desks all over the place. I brush a piece of stray hair behind my ear and take the desk beside Lisa. The rows face the incline where Mr. Gluskin's desk sits, two large windows on either side of the teacher's desk.

 

"I think we are too early," I tell Lisa and scratch at the back of my neck, fidgeting in my seat. She turns to look at me and drops the side of her head into the palm of her hand. "I think so," she admits with a giggle and I lean back and smile, staring at the large desk ahead of me.

Lisa usually finds something to do to pass the time wherever she is but this time she doesn't. She gets up from her desk and begins to pace the large room, making her way over to the right side where the sewing class is. I watch her from my seat and open up my sketch book. Before I begin doodling, I look up at the clock ahead of me and suddenly the room is flooded with loud voices and random sounds I don't recognize. 

 

I shake my head and put my pencil in the fold of my sketch book. Lisa hurries back and claims the desk to my right. We each share a similar smile and the door closes with a soft click. The chattering doesn't stop but it does get softer. Mr. Gluskin is a quiet teacher so it doesn't bother me that he doesn't acknowledge his students until he's done situating things at his desk. His expensive dress shoes click against the wood floorboards and suddenly he's in my line of vision. I swallow, something about him makes me uncomfortably nervous. Whispers buzz in my ears from the people behind me and I use my finger to pick the insides as if I am picking out the wax.

 

Lisa turns her body so that her legs are out in the aisle and crosses one over the other. I watch closely at her subtle actions and Miles's words begin to play over and over in my head. I look down at my sketch book, pick up the pencil and lightly tap it against the paper. 

 

"Good morning students," the large teacher breaks up the chit chatter with a soft welcoming tone, eyeing each and every one of us. He puts his hands over top of his desk and leans into them. "Any interesting stories?" he asks, doing his best to start a mutual conversation with his for some damn reason, shy students. I keep tapping my pencil and wait for someone to answer the man. 

 

"Always, Mr. Gluskin," of course it would be Casey. I shake my head and tap the eraser of my pencil harder against the paper of my sketch book, creating a dent. I don't pay much attention to my peripheral, just what's in front of me, down in front of me. Casey Jamison is the filthiest of all the female students in this school. She is a big ass cliche, so much that it makes me gag every time I see or hear her. Something about her this year, today just makes my blood boil. 

"And what is that Ms. Jamison?" Gluskin asks the brunette slut and now my foot taps almost uncontrollably against the creaky floorboards. For a split second, I bring my eyes forward and look up at the clock. Ugh, not even half way through the hour. Come on, say something already!

 

"I met this super cute guy Kyle, he's smart and funny but he's nothing like you, Mr. Gluskin," the girl finally chimes in and half the students laugh and cheer her on. I'm not surprised by what she said or by the reaction of the other students. Just out of curiosity, I gaze over at Mr. Gluskin and the way he fixes his tie, the way he runs a hand over the top of his head I can definitely tell that he's very uncomfortable. He should've known better than to ask the students anything, especially when Casey is around. When she's with her 'girlfriends' it's ten times worse. 

 

I feel bad for Gluskin but I usually let it go. Flirting with a teacher is treading dangerous waters but the teacher acting out because of that student, well then we are all practically screwed because of someone like fucking Casey Jamison!

I lick my lips and tap away. "Okay then, how about opening up your sketch books and drawing me, hm, how about a shape, shape of any kind," he announces to the class, with one arm crossed behind his back and the other holding his chin. I watch him pace the room, still in thought. 

 

"After creating that shape, add limbs to it, make it into something unique," he finishes, his voice so awfully quiet and clear. I never knew what kind of accent it is that he possesses and I am still as curious as I was the first year. The tapping stops and I sit up straight and doodle away. Whispers and giggles continue to buzz in my ears and the longer it persists, the more I am going to want to blow up in all of their faces. I hold my pencil tight and begin to draw out a random shape. I can hear Mr. Gluskin's shoes hit the floor with every step. I get a weird kind of feeling and it causes me to stop. My eyes look up from my paper and I see Mr. Gluskin staring out the window.

 

Nothing weird, nothing strange. These damn gut feelings, why do I always listen to them. I finally figured it out; Mr. Gluskin is a big man, I think that's why I feel so anxious around him, he's over six foot and that's obvious but he has a thick body to add to his extreme height. I shake the thought away and get back to my drawing. 

 

An oval, hm, okay I can work with this. I peer over to my right and stare at Lisa. She catches my gaze and she raises her sketch book to show me what it is she's drawing. It almost looks like Mr. Walker, a round belly yet very well proportioned and toned all at the same time. The arms on her character look a little bubbly but it's just a drawing. I give her a thumbs up and then show her what I have so far. I can feel all eyes on me as I share and suddenly that's when Casey shatters the silence with a loud "Mr. Gluskin, Mr. Gluskin!" my bones shake like jello beneath my skin at that squeaky voice and I am beyond ready to pound her face in; I don't care if she is a girl, she's just making me fucking upset.

 

Some heads raise up to watch what's to happen next. Everybody has to be nosey. Damn that skank! Always making me out to be the bad guy. 

I swallow loud and before I know it, Gluskin is standing in front of my desk, looking down at me and my drawing. He looks it over a few times with his dark brows raised slightly, he uncrossed his arms from behind his back and carefully rests his large hands on top of my desk, tracing the barely noticeable pencil lines with his fingers. 

 

I try not to look directly into those electric blue eyes of his but it's kind of hard not to. "Wonderful work Mr. Park, just keep practicing your proportions and you will be an excellent artist," he tells me and I watch a little smirk smudge his lips at the corner and our eyes meet. His hands slide away from my paper and fold back behind him. It's as if he didn't really hear that annoying voice of Casey's, that's too funny. Lisa leans over to me and whispers. 

 

"See, I told you you are good," and she leans back into her seat, trying to complete her drawing. My mind goes instantly blank and I just stare at my paper; my hands shake and the lines I have made seem to be coming out towards me. Soon the entire room is nothing but multiple colors, mixed together, creating the worst shade of brown. No, this can't be happening now, fuck! Lisa is the first to realize that there is something off. My eyes scan wildly around the room and eventually my head goes into a wicked frenzy and I'm on the ground...I feel nothing, hear nothing. I just float motionlessly through waves of nothingness. 

.

 

I open my eyes and my heart begins to pound rapidly. I sit upright and feel the hardness of the headboard of my bed against my back, the cream sheets all twisted around me. A bead of sweat runs down the side of my face and I use the back of my hand to wipe it away. I'm back home, nothing can hurt me, no one will hurt me and my weary eyes finally break away from the clouds and I see Lisa standing by her dresser with her back to me. 

 

We might be young but Lisa's mother was sweet enough to let us rent out one of her cabins further out in the sticks than Mount Massive. "You blacked out again and you hit your head pretty hard on the floor," Lisa informs me of my condition and turns around with a glass of water in her hand. Her voice is always loving and I that's one of the reasons why I wanted to be with her.

She creates a little dent in the bed when she sits down on the edge and she hands me the glass. "Mr. Gluskin was scared, he thought it was something he said that triggered it, I guess it's sweet that he cares," she tells me and I drink half the glass, handing it back to her. 

I try not to think about him, maybe he is the reason why I blacked out but I can't really go by that, anything can trigger the mental issues I have. "Lay with me?" I ask quietly so she just has to say yes; she can't resist my sweet side. 

A giggle passes her lips and she crawls up towards me, burying herself into my chest. I can't help but laugh and I kiss her temple. I doze off faster than I could ever imagine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waylon knows he's not normal, he's everything but

Lunch time, yes!! With Billy Hope at my right side and Miles on my other, the three of us race out of Mr. Manera's food's class with rumbling stomachs. The hallways are littered with students but not enough to flood the school. Through the group of ravenous students, somehow Lisa finds me and grabs onto my arm, shoving Miles aside. I chuckle at the face he makes and we finally make it into the large cafeteria and choose our table. We pick the one that's closest to where they serve the food and I have claimed this table ever since my freshman year. 

 

Lisa sits to my right and Miles to my left; Billy sits across from me with his usual reading material in front of him and soon the cafeteria is full of students. Voices loud and quiet mingle together into one massive sound and it bounces off every wall, creating one annoying echo. Lisa notices the irritation on my face and calms my nerves with a touch of her hand. 

 

"Mr. Walker is one crazy dude," Miles chimes in, breaking the silence around our table. I roll my eyes and I rest my head on one of Lisa's shoulders. He puts his arms on top of the table and taps his nails against it, staring at all the others. I nod my head but don't say a word. 

I watch Billy open up his book and begin to read. His blue eyes scan the paper so carefully; wish I had the patience to stick with one book. A sigh passes through me and I get a sudden chill. I see that some kids already went up to get their tray of food. Have I really been distracted by my thoughts for that long? Lisa gives me a nudge and it snaps me out of my weird state. Miles along with Billy get up and start another line up at the serving area. Lisa holds onto my forearm and we both march up right behind Billy. 

 

"Mh, chicken fajitas, wonder if Mr. Manera killed someone to make this so called chicken," Miles makes a smart remark about the food and Lisa giggles but Billy and I just ignore his stupid ass. The faces behind the glass don't look too friendly and they give me some strange looks but I rub the side of my head and the thought disappears right as I grab my tray. Miles's stupid remark is making me a little worried about the chicken now. There has been a few missing students and they are the ones I haven't seen since freshman year. Lisa leads me back to our table and the sounds the plastic trays make against the table makes me cringe. 

"Why do you have to ruin everything Miles?" I ask, looking up from my tray at the bastard to my left. I rest one hand against my temple and pick up my fork with the other, picking at my food. I try not to pay attention to the others; the rumbling in my stomach has already came and went so the food in front of me isn't really going to help me. 

 

I hear their forks and spoons knock against the trays and listening to them chew gives me shivers of all kinds. "Don't let Miles make you upset, eat, it will make you feel better," Lisa suggests and rests one of her hands on top of mine. I swallow loud and sit up straight, staring down at the food on my tray. The brownie looks good and so does the carton of orange juice but the chicken mixed with the lettuce and tomatoes doesn't. It makes my stomach growl in pain not hunger. I open up my juice and take a sip from that. Miles keeps his eyes on me while chowing down like a damn pig. "I didn't know you were lactose intolerant," he says with a mouth full of brownie and chicken pieces. What? Of course he knows, he just likes to hear himself talk! 

 

I just keep my thoughts to myself and continue to drink the orange juice and when it's gone I start on my brownie. I grab the brownie and scoot my tray toward Billy. He has no problem with the food and I like him more than Miles at the moment. He smiles at me and eats the food but he's very slow and decent when he chews; Miles can be such a trashy douche sometimes. Lisa gives me a weird look and hands me her brownie. I take it of course. 

 

"It's almost time for next period," Miles announces to our little four person group but neither one of us gives him any kind of acknowledgement. Like I said before, he likes to hear himself talk. 

 

.

 

I head to the gymnasium with Lisa by my side. We part ways again to go to our separate locker rooms. I walk into the locker room and realize how empty it is and yet there are almost thirty of us out of the boys. I stop by my locker next to Jessie's; Jessie is a big asshole, huge redneck who always smells bad no matter if he steps into a shower or not. He keeps his head shaved completely bald but he sports a brown goatee like a weirdo. 

 

I can imagine him being a white supremacist. He takes gym class way too seriously but I don't care, whenever he throws a damn ball at me, I throw it right back at him, whenever he tells me to run, I tell him to shut the fuck up or give him the finger. I do it when Mr. Walker isn't looking of course, I wonder if that's the reason why all the teachers like me. They don't see what I do behind their backs. After pulling off my casual clothes, I quickly slip into my gym clothes. Jesse must not be here today, he's usually the first one in here and I normally get shoved against my locker by that big douche.

 

I head back out to the gym with the others and instantly catch Lisa's stare from across the room. Damn, even her baggy gym clothes look good on her; me on the other hand, I just look totally stupid. The black shorts fall down to my knees which is okay but the way my legs look in them makes me look like I have no muscle in them whatsoever. Thank god I have a tint to my skin, at least I don't have to look super skinny and be as white as paper also. I pull at the bottoms of my shorts and mess with the stretchy waistband. 

 

Lisa comes up to me finally and puts her hands on my shoulders. "You look fine," she tells me and gives a little giggle that makes me go red. I run my fingers through my auburn curls and scratch at the annoying stubble resting over my chin. "Whatever you say, babe," I chime in with a smile and let my hands fall deep into the pockets of my shorts. 

With everyone talking and not really giving a shit, Mr. Walker comes out from the boy's locker room in his usual grey muscle shirt and camouflage cargo pants. The leather soles of his combat boots squeak with his ever step, the sound bouncing off the walls and he stops, giving us all a deep glare.

 

Lisa and I are already in our own line and it takes the others a while to get into a line in front of Mr. Walker. I give my head a subtle shake and keep my eyes on the teacher. Mr. Walker is one of the toughest teachers in this school; he was once in the military and the silver dog tags that hangs from his neck everyday says just that. He keeps his blond hair buzzed and his boots tied very tight. I know because I have gotten myself in deep shit with Mr. Walker before and I remember he unlaced his boots just so I can lace them right back up again; he likes them dangerously tight, all the way to the top. He's a total control freak.

 

I feel a shiver climb up my spine at the mere thought of Mr. Walker and his ways of punishment but I suppose tying a pair of boots is a lot better than spending half the evening with him just staring at the four walls and listening to the clock tick. He's a large man, tall and very huge; he's just got to be bigger than Mr. Gluskin. Mr. Gluskin has nothing but muscle but Mr. Walker is trained, fat and packed full of muscle to top it off. I can easily say that he's the strongest being in this building.

 

Once there is nothing but silence and a few coughs here and there, Mr. Walker crosses his arms behind his lower back and begins to pace back and forth, staring at each and everyone of us while doing so. His boots make noise and so do his dog tags that I can't pry my eyes off of. His dangerous glare frightens half the students but Lisa and I manage to keep ourselves under wraps.

 

When he stops pacing and clears his throat, his lips begin to move, his dark eyes still continuing to scan us. "I want you all to give me twenty pushups, go at a pace you are most comfortable with, don't want to pull anything this early in the year," he tells us in a demanding tone and we are all on our hands and knees before long. He begins his pacing all over again and counts for us. I sigh and I continue to keep my thoughts to myself. 

 

.

 

Not a whole lot of the guys step into the shower room; the only kind of workout we got through today was just a few laps around the gym and a few more push ups, nothing more nothing less.

 

"Well, well," as soon as pull my gym shirt up over my head and drop it on the bench behind me, I am met face to face with Jessie. Oh fuck! I'm not a scrawny little guy but I'm not as big as Jessie either. I attempt to cover myself with my shirt but it's taken from my loose grip and thrown back aside. I watch Jessie's brown eyes examine every last detail on my face. He looks pissed and his dark brows twitch along with his lips and I am pushed into a row of lockers.

 

"Haven't seen your girly ass all day!" he says with a spit shower, blocking off every way of a possible escape with his tattooed hands pinned on either side of my head. I'm not really scared, I'm mostly angry and tired of his shit. I turn my head to the side and shift my body in that same direction but he goes with me and with one hand, he grabs onto my chin and pinches awfully tight. The bell has already rung and Mr. Walker is nowhere in fucking sight! UGH, my fucking luck.

 

I wince a little at the pain and realize how filthy his nails are. "Let me go," I raise my voice but not too much, I don't want to start a damn fight as much as I really want to slam his ugly face into these lockers. His eyes resume scanning me and my features. My fingers shiver against the cold surface of the lockers. Jessie sucks in his bottom lip and chews on it. "How does it feel to be someones bitch, Park?" he growls and his southern accent is strong and his breath reeks of cigarette smoke. 

 

What? I'm kind of lost; I give him a weird look and wiggle against the cold lockers. My back is already frozen and now my ass has to suffer the same pain. "What the hell are you talking a-about?" I ask as coherently as possible, seeing as my chin is being held in place. A laugh escapes his mouth and he points his head down. I watch his shoulders bob but his laughter has died down tremendously. Now I am fucking worried. 

 

"Upshur, that faggot, everyone knows them girls are just cover ups, he's got his filthy eyes on you and I got mine on him," Jessie hisses and his smirk vanishes without a trace; his fingers glide slowly down my jaw and find a spot around my neck. I bat my eyes and try not to panic. I feel my forehead break out into sweat beads but I can't do anything about it. Miles isn't gay, hell, he's totally far from it. I would be the first to know anyway, i've known him since the end of middle school, I guess that should count as close friends.

 

"I'll kill 'em, I'll fuckin' kill 'em!" Jessie threatens and bears his stained, missing teeth. His fingers squeeze lightly and then he lets go and slams my locker shut. I need to hurry the hell up, shit! I finish tying my shoes and take my bag of gym clothes, swing it up over my shoulder and run like hell! At this point I don't care if I get caught running like a mad man through the halls again, I just need to get my ass to class. 

 

I probably look a mess and almost tripping down a flight of wooden stairs doesn't help with my current situation. I button up my flannel shirt half way and pat down a few of my crazy curls just before opening the door to my final class and I slide in as easily as possible. All heads turn my way, even Lisa's. I hold my breath and Mr. Gluskin looks up from his desk. He doesn't look too happy to see me. As I swallow, I shuffle my way toward my desk in the front row beside Lisa and drop my bag on the floor next to me. I let myself slouch and stare blankly at the scratched up face of my desk.

 

I think about what that skin head said to me. Miles isn't gay, what the hell was that redneck bastard talking about? Does Jessie have a guilty conscience or something? I don't know but by the time I shake every unwanted thought from my mind, Mr. Gluskin is standing in front of my desk, speechless and creepy as ever.

 

"It's sad to see one of my best students so late," the six foot man admits and his neutral expression softens. I take in a deep breath and rest my hands on top of my desk. I look around the room and find out that everyone is gone, what? Okay, I guess I was in my own little world for half an hour then. I ignore the feelings that I get and look up at the man before me.

 

"Sorry Mr. Gluskin, I'll try not to let it happen again," I told him and scratched an itch at the back of my neck, realizing that I don't even have my sketchbook. I am such a mess today. Ever since this morning my whole day has been nothing but a shitty one. My eyes meet Mr. Gluskin's again and this time I feel my body tremble out of my control. 

 

A little smile shows up against his smooth lips and he pats the top of my desk. "Don't apologize, things like this happen but you best be heading out soon, I have got a lot of papers to grade and sketches to look at," the large man says to me and I slip out from my chair and grab my bag. I nod my head and scratch at my arm nervously. Right as I turn my back on him, already near the door, I swing back around and watch him pick up garbage from the floor and position the desks the way they used to be before us crazy kids came back.

 

Curiosity continues to tease me, whispering in my ears, tickling me with it's warm fingers. Maybe he doesn't know that I am still here, watching his every move. "Mr. Gluskin," my voice breaks the deafening silence and he turns around with a strange kind of look on his face. He brushes off the front of his dress shirt and loosens his brown suspenders. "Y-yes Mr. Park?" I catch his stutter and it makes me smile a little bit. I guess he didn't know I was still here.

 

I walk further into the large room and wander up to his desk. He takes a seat behind it and keeps his eyes on me at all times. "Wh-what you said to me earlier, that k-kind of meant a lot to me, I don't get those kind of comments from anyone, well at least not a whole lot of people," I begin to explain my awkward self, scratching constantly at the back of my neck and my arms. I watch him shift in his chair and his breathing is loud enough that I can hear it. 

 

"What I am trying to say is thank you, you are the only teacher that cares about my grades and my weird art style," I feel an unwanted heat take over my cheeks and I look down at my dirty converse, picking at the back of my ear with an awkward kind of smile. How can I be so weird, especially in the presence of my most favorite teachers?

 

The wheels of Mr. Gluskin's chair squeal when they roll across the wooden floorboards and he pulls out something from the front of his desk. I see him lick his lips and wonder what it is he's removing from his desk of random things. His desk is the only one I haven't been able to get into and nose around inside. He keeps his locked and maybe that's a good thing so it can keep snoopy kids like me out. I smile at the thought and there's a startling knock at the open door. Both of us snap our heads in the direction of the sound and the air around me goes cold. It's only Casey Jamison.

 

The man looks up at me and motions me over with a little bend of his finger. I sneak over and around his desk until I am standing right beside him; I feel awkward, hot, nervous, childish and funny. He smells absolutely amazing and that is one thing I try so hard not to admit to him while I stand here. 

 

He points down at his large sketch book but what I see is one of my drawings. He traces his fingers over the faint lines and catches my eyes. "I-I like this piece, Mr. Park, it's simply amazing and I have to admit that I was feeling a little bit stingy and thought about keeping it for myself," the man lets out an anxious laugh "b-but it's yours, your artwork is wonderful Mr. Park and I wouldn't have said a word about it if it wasn't true," What, what did I just hear? My hands are shaking now and I can't stop them from doing so. His blue eyes find mine and I swallow hard. It's a still life drawing I did of my mother a couple years back. I thought I should turn it in just because I couldn't come up with an idea for one of my projects.

 

My mother was my life; she passed away from leukemia and I couldn't live with myself for too long. I met Lisa when I turned sixteen and I have been with her ever since. Miles and Lisa helped me get through the tough times and I am very happy someone else can see the beauty in my mother. I did my best in drawing her and I guess it turned out wonderfully. 

 

I smile the biggest stupidest smile ever. Casey continues to tip toe through the room and I look down at Mr. Gluskin one last time before leaving. I race out of the room and hurry to meet up with Lisa. When we collide, she drives us home and we order chinese. I can't stop the racing thoughts of Mr. Gluskin in my head, what he said made me smile like a dumbass but it made me very happy and him also. 

 

.

 

Lisa headed off to bed at around 7:43 but I stay up watching some documentary on Netflix in the livingroom. I pick up my last krab rangoon from the coffee table, which I usually use as a foot rest and chow down on that with a can of sprite next to me in between the cushions of the couch. I think about my mother and Miles, Mr. Gluskin and over and over, it just repeats itself. 

 

I pause the movie and pick up my cell phone that sits on the coffee table. I stare at it for a while before searching through my contacts for Miles. I find his name, hesitate for a moment and then hit it. We hang out and he crashes on the couch. I wake up at one in the damn morning with a raging headache. I didn't take my pills before bed, fuck! These images that pop out from every corner, every crevice, I do my best to ignore them because I know that they are not real. 

I force myself to take the pills I keep in the bathroom and down two. I don't turn on the light, it will only make things worse. After I swallow the pills, I wander off back into my bedroom and try to get some sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie Gluskin has a big heart and is eager to share it with someone but no one is foolish enough for the likes of Gluskin;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~I don't know why but I had to write this one in Eddie's POV! I think it turned out better than I hoped and I hope you readers really enjoy it!

Ms. Jamison strolls into my classroom with a sway that can only resemble that of a seductress. I put Mr. Park's drawing back into my sketch book and place that back into the top drawer of my desk, locking it as so. There are cameras and I know that and so should Ms. Jamison when she taps her fingers against the face of my desk, tracing little filthy fingertips down the length of my ruler which lays near the right corner of the desk.

 

She's done this so many times I can't even recall the exact amount. The young woman doesn't know who I am, what I am and that I am capable of wiping her off the very face of this earth. I just sit in my chair, rummage through the many drawers, doing my very best to keep the demons away.

 

Casey is a whore, a filthy piece of meat and bone on two silky smooth legs. I pull out one of my many history books and flip to an unknown page. "Mr. Gluskin, I know you can't just ignore me," the blond woman whispers to me, distracting me. I begin to chew on the inside of my mouth, it's one of my many awful habits and I look up from my book to find her cocoa eyes watching mine. I swallow quietly and shut my book. 

I hold my head up high. She's just a child, she can't harm me, her little fingers can't touch me. The watch around my left wrist shows me the exact time and I stand up with my palms laying flat against the desk. A smile so innocent, yet so very poisonous spreads across her soft pink lips and I fight back the urge to lick my own. The cool air is making me shiver and my lips dry. 

 

I watch as she makes her way around my desk and stands before me, little hands so very close to touching me. I take a step backward and the sunlight illuminating through the large window warms my back to welcoming temperatures.

"Ms. Jamison, stop this, what you are doing is very inappropriate," I inform her, hoping that she will soon come to understand that acting this way around a school educator is way beyond breaking the rules. I know that I will not act foolishly or play her little game, better ideas float wildly through my mind, ideas, plans that I know will knock the blond whore down a size or two. She creeps closer, so close that I can smell her strong perfume radiate off of her tiny body. Our two different scents suddenly combine and the aroma they create makes me growl. 

 

What a filthy whore! Nothing but sex objects they are; they don't deserve me, they can't have all the love that I have to give, none of that, not a single one of them deserves to bear my children. A warm palm of hers rests carefully over my torso and I can feel the beating of her heart. I stare down at her like she's nothing, Casey isn't anything special, most definitely not!

"I know you want me, Eddie, come on," her man-eating voice brings uninvited shivers down my spine and right back up to my neck. I shake the awful feelings away momentarily but the way her curvaceous body moves, the stronger the painful feelings grow. There are many cameras and I can't lay one finger on her. I'm absolutely defenseless; I give my lips one quick lick and her sneaky opposite hand travels further down to dangerous areas. I tighten my jaw and bite the inside of my mouth a second time. She said my name, the way she speaks to me makes my very bones rattle. I want away from this succubus!

 

Her lips move close and eventually they are pressed softly against my neck. I am not going to endure this damn pain anymore, I have gotten myself away from it long, long ago but it still keeps on coming right back. I don't speak any longer; I know that if I do, the wrong words will come out and I will never be able to return to this school again. 

 

The young succubus grabs me in the most delicate of areas and I suck in a deep breath of cold air. I keep repeating to myself, there are cameras, cameras everywhere so where the hell are these other teachers when I truly need them? I am not liked by a lot of the other educators, even the students, they talk about me whenever I am near them; do they even care that their filthy words hurt me? "Come with me," the young whore coos and takes a secure hold of my hand, leading me to her filthy domain. There is a supply closet in the sewing room where I keep all of my broken sewing machines and mannequins and that is exactly the place she drags me to. 

 

This little woman thinks she can take advantage of a man like me? She just doesn't understand the happiness I can create by destroying every last bit of her existence. Men all over the world will thank me, I'll have them shedding tears of joy at the death of this little whore.

 

The door closes behind her with a soft click and I back myself up into a shelf full of boxes of yarn and fabrics. To her, my expression should be frightening but the stare I give her doesn't stop her cruel intentions. "I have wanted you since my first year here, you should've known by the way I stared, such an oblivious man," she whispers and her words are poison to my ears. I'm tense and every muscle in my body begins to ache. 

 

The very revealing clothing she has picked for today make me very uncomfortable. The yellow v-neck t-shirt wrapped around her creates a tightness around her shape, making her every curve pop and her breasts are held up so high, there is a possibility of them spilling out all over and the very thought of them gives me shivers that she takes notice of. Her jeans shorts are very vulgar and the sight causes my stomach to turn so violently. What a nasty woman, whore! Even her face is an example of how slutty girls and women can be these days and it makes me mad.

 

Her body is flush against mine and I pull away only to be stopped by the shelf behind me. "I dress this way for you, I see you staring and it makes me crazy," her words hurt me so bad and just the mere touch of her mouth is enough to scar me again. Her breathing is rapid and I can hear her heart pound wildly against her chest. I can take her life now but what will I do with the body? I am smarter than that, so like moments earlier, I am defenseless. 

Her kisses burn and her touches scratch. She stands on her toes and grabs my suspenders, letting them fall victim to my sides. I can feel a sudden heat, a violent urge building deep inside of me. I feel my lips move, wanting to speak the honest truth but my words are violent, they are just as torturous as my actions. She bats those chocolate eyes at me, her eyelashes curled to awful perfection as she hits the floor. My nails dig deep into the wood of the shelf trapped behind me and I grit my teeth. My heart pumps loud and hard; I don't want to stare at her. Her fingers, I can feel them working my belt and I look towards the dusty ceiling. 

 

I feel pain, anger and sadness. She presses her hot mouth against the front of my dress pants and I jump in some weak kind of retaliation. She laughes almost maniacally and her red painted claws dig into my hips. In one quick tug, my pants are pooled around my ankles and I look down myself, feeling like such a fool.

 

.

 

The moment I arrive home, I slam the front door closed and hold my head in the palms of my hands. I'm such a damn fool, a helpless fool. I swallow the thick saliva in the back of my throat and stare at the cracks and lines in my hands as if there are any kind of answers to what I did buried beneath my skin. I drop my arms at my sides, gaze around the room and begin my journey up the stairs. My body throbs in pain and the second I reach the very top, my attention turns towards the old wooden railing. I put my hand over top of it and trace the dents and cuts that had been carved into the wood over the years.

 

This is where mother fell. I can still see the marks she had left as she tried to cling onto the railing. Pain and anger quickly bubbles up deep inside my chest and I can't help but feel awful. I try my best, I want to be a good person, I want someone to care about me and I want to fall in love; I want a beautiful family.

 

A stray tear falls from my chin and I wipe away the trail it had left. I lick my lips and wander on through the long narrow hallway. Pictures of mother everywhere, on every wall, sitting and collecting dust on every table, desk and vanity in this old house. I wipe away another tear and then another. I'm growing rather impatient with my own emotions. I reach my bedroom at the end of the hall; I take a quick peek out the dirty window and catch the old photo of mother smiling up at me from the table below. I don't lay a finger on the picture, I don't want to risk breaking it.

 

She's the most beautiful woman I have ever set my eyes on. I would love to have one just as lovely as her, maybe one day but these days, I don't try to find anyone. I'm thirty eight years of age and I have given up on finding a woman who would want to have me long ago.

 

I'm a strange man and I know that, I have killed many women over the years, I don't believe that love is right for me anymore. I push the door open and sigh once I step inside. The air is warm and very inviting. I stare at the many mannequins, loose fabrics of many colors and half finished projects beneath old sewing machines I just haven't gotten around to completing. My room has got to be the filthiest room in my house. I don't understand the reason for it but it usually never comes to mind.

.

 

I close the door and make my into the little bathroom off to the side of my bedroom. Many people from outside would think this house needs an update but I don't believe that; this is the same house I grew up in, it's old and takes a lot of work and a lot of my time to keep clean but it's all worth it. It's like a beautiful painting, held up high for the world to see.

 

I slip inside the bathroom and stare at my reflection in the cracked mirror. My hands hold on to the porcelain sink and I gaze at the tinted scar headed straight down my right eyebrow. I am honest with myself, I have a different kind of look, one that usually makes others turn in the opposite direction. I hold up one of my hands, stare at it for a moment and then look back at my reflection and touch my chin, run my thumb over the indent directly in the center, I trace the shape of my lips, the little scar there and pinch the bridge of my nose. It's big but never in the way.

 

I have my father's eyes and his hair color but the rest is all from my mother. She had pale skin, full lips and a smile that could break any man's heart. I have her wonderful features and her loving heart but we are not the same. I'm an evil man and she was an angelic woman. The longer I stare at the odd face in the mirror, the harder it is to hold back my emotions.

 

So I turn away and leave. I take a seat at the foot of my bed, my weight gains a soft creak from the weak wooden bed frame and I bend over to untie my scuffed oxfords. I slip them off carefully and set them next to my night stand. I then grab onto the waistband of my pants and unbutton my suspenders from them. They hit the floor but I begin on each button of my dress shirt then my pants. My legs slide out of the pant legs so easily and I fold them up, finally removing my shirt and repeating the same method.

 

When I raise my head and see my reflection again across the room from me, I stand before it and stare down the length of my body, standing in a pair of dark briefs. I don't really enjoy looking at myself in this tall mirror, especially when I am in nothing but briefs. 

 

I have scars, unsightly, awful scars. I growl in frustration and push the bathroom door open so I can no longer see myself. I sneak a quick glance down at my watch and realize the time. I'm not overly hungry right now so I suppose i'll finish putting together some new shirts and ties. Before I begin, I step into the bathroom and grab my rob that's hanging on the door. I tie it around myself to keep it from opening up and I sit down at my little sewing table near one of the larger windows and reach behind myself to turn on the lamp for better viewing of what's in front of me.

 

I have never once used a modern sewing machine but I don't think I will ever need to. My beautiful Singer has worked perfectly over the years, no need to change.

Time after time I find myself looking down at my watch. I scratch my head and wiggle my nose at all the kicked up dust. It's nearing eight o' clock. I stop sewing and stand up, looking out the window. The little neighborhood is dark and quiet. Pains come back to me and cause me to bite my lip. What a filthy whore! Ms. Jamison is nothing but a vulgar piece of flesh. I hiss in the open air and march out of the bedroom in search of my sketch book. When I make my way down the noisy stairs I peek over the railing into the little walkway towards the kitchen and turn the crank on the gramophone sitting against the wall on one of my father's hand-crafted tables. They are several wood pieces left by my father's hard work but they are just objects to me and have been abused by my own two hands. 

 

My anger is something I have control over, most of the time. At the age of nine, my mother thought what I was going through was a strange faze, just like all the other boys and girls but no, it wasn't. One day, my mother's doctor looked me straight in the eyes and told me 'you have bipolar disorder son'. At the time I had no idea what that meant but my mother knew all too well. 

 

I had very frightening mood swings out of the blue. I had no friends as a boy and that still remains the same to this day. It saddens me deeply, sometimes so deep I end up growling and causing a mess. I don't need to take medication, nothing in this world can take away the awful mental issue I suffer, I can stop it but it's never an easy task. Mr. Park, such a very intelligent kid, so young and innocent. I have never felt so close to anyone else other than mother; there is something about him that I enjoy every day that I see him in my class; sweet smile, quiet mouth, lovely eyes...I can't think in such a way though, he's a student of mine and he's a man. No need for thoughts like those.

 

.

 

I hum the lovely song playing quietly on the gramophone and make my way back upstairs. I get dressed, casual of course, put on a very old pair of boots, pull out a dirty pair of black gloves from the dresser in my bedroom and run a comb through my hair before grabbing a warm enough jacket from the coat hanger near the front door and I lock the door as soon as I step outside. 

Tonight I will be dancing in blood.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waylon isn't the only one fighting demons;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update has Gluskin's POV also just to warn you guys I guess XP

I wake up feeling a bit nauseous but I pour myself a glass of water and the discomfort disappears the minute I drink it. I look at the time, hurry and take a shower, get myself dressed properly, comb my crazy hair, eat something super quick, brush my teeth and get my ass going. Two hours late for fucking school, shit! I arrive at Mount Massive, cut the engine to my beat up truck, step outside into the chilly autumn air and make my way inside the building. 

 

What's gotten into me lately, I have never been this late for anything before? The second I step foot through the large doors, I am stopped by Mr. Blaire and dragged into his office for a supposedly quick chit chat. Quick chit chat my ass!

"Very late Mr. Park, never thought it would be you, the one to miss two hours of school but looks and personalities can be quite deceiving," he breaks the silence with one of his many speeches about how much he believed in me and all that pathetic crap on our way down the hall to his office. When we finally arrive, he opens the door for me and I make my way inside the warm room with him close behind. He closes the door and I jump for some unknown reason when he brushes right passed me.

 

He sits down at the fairly large desk in front of me and smiles, motioning for me to sit. "Have a seat Mr. Park," the dark haired fuck face insists, his voice calm and I listen only because my feet hurt. I get comfortable real fast and look around the room. "Are you having any problems at home, Mr. Park, anything that might be the reason for your strange behavior?" Mr. Blaire asks, leaning forward into his desk, getting my attention with the gleam in his eyes and his choice of words. I furrow my brows and slouch a little in the cushioned seat. "Sometimes I have trouble staying asleep but other than that, no," I answer him as truthfully as possible, fidgeting in my seat like a child with a bad case of ADD.

 

Mr. Blaire bobs his head nonchalantly and leans back into his seat, staring at me strangely. "Try going to bed a little more earlier, staying up too late can cause those kinds of issues, Mr. Park," the principle adds to the conversation, lightly tapping his fingers on top of his scattered papers. I stand up, thinking that this little talk is over. It is and I am very glad for that. He stands up too and we both look up at the clock at almost the same time. It's very weird. 

"I do hope you take my advice and get better sleep, this is your first warning Mr. Park, please don't let me have to haul you in here a second time," the man escorts me out of his office and waves when I wander down the hall. I just shake my head and hurry off to the gymnasium. Oh shit, Mr. Walker is going to be furious with me.

I wonder why Miles, not even Lisa didn't try to wake me up this morning, I can't help but put all the blame on those two. My head is spinning like fucking crazy and I feel sick to my stomach again but I haul ass to the gym and get myself dressed. I'm just five minutes late, how bad can that be? As I make my way into the gym, I shove my hands into the pockets of my shorts and watch all the other students execute pathetic pushups. Lisa is the first one I spot and I hurry up and claim my position beside her.

 

She finishes up her push ups and positions herself until she's sitting indian style beside me. "Waylon, how are you feeling?" she asks, reaching out her hand to me but I wiggle away from her touch and begin my twenty pushups. Mr. Walker stands high above me, his boots very close to my face when I push myself up. 

 

"Give me thirty Mr. Park," he demands, voice low and hard and I do as I am told. Lisa stands up and so do all the other students. "Twelve laps around the gym, get going!" Mr. Walker growls and everyone starts jogging passed me while I try to finish up what I am doing. Ugh, what a fucking day already. I'm on my tenth push up when Mr. Walker kneels down onto one of his knees and gets in my face. I don't want to look into his dark eyes but I am afraid that that's what he wants me to do.

"You came in late, Park, hurry up with the pushups and run for me," he snaps his thick fingers and stands back up to the soles of his boots. I listen to the sounds of rubber squeaking against the floor and the constant pit pat of the students running. Shit, I just want to go home.

 

.

 

When I change my clothes and leave the locker room, Lisa hurries to catch up to me. I don't wait for her today, she's pissed me off already. "Waylon, hey, Waylon!" I can hear her voice behind me but she's lost in the crowd of students. I don't care or pay any attention; I head off to art class and keep to myself.

 

The only teacher who didn't give me shit today was Mr. Trager and I am happy that he didn't. Mr. Manera just glared at me while in foods class and I suppose Mr. Pyro, who's in charge of the welding class is another educator who didn't say much about me being late but now that I get closer to Mr. Gluskin's class, I start to worry. I'm not late though but all the shit I endured today, I guess I can imagine him giving me some too.

 

My head pounds out of the blue and my stomach twists. I already took my pills this morning so I have nothing to worry about. I enter the room and take my seat. I don't pay much attention to the students, including Lisa. I start on a new drawing and quickly look up from my sketch book over at Mr. Gluskin who's currently working on his own sketch. From here, I can tell what he's doing, that pencil moves back and forth, side to side. Not once does he use the eraser. 

I can't believe I watch him for so long. I shake my head and continue my drawing. When the bell rings, I am still adding details. Lisa puts her hands on my shoulders, and I jump while she tries to get my attention. I don't give it to her because she should know how I am feeling. So she leaves without a word and I can hear Mr. Gluskin's chair creak.

He comes up to me, slowly and I take a look up and forward. I bite my bottom lip and quickly try to cover my sketch book but I'm too late. Mr. Gluskin sees it and asks if he can take a closer look. I sigh and remove my arms from the paper. It's the nicest thing I can do. 

 

"I-I was bored," I admit with a pair of pink cheeks, hands shaking. I let my hands rest on my lap under my desk while he looks and examines the drawing. He steps to my left side to get a better view and his chuckling surprises me. I shift my eyes up at him and stare fearfully. I'm scared of what he might say or do. 

"I like it Mr. Park, your proportions are really excellent, I must be a hard subject to draw," he confesses and I feel my face and my body burn at his words. I raise my chin and look up at him finding his eyes on me. "N-not really, you are pretty f-fun to draw," those are my words and I don't feel so good saying them. I feel like some teenage girl who has a wicked crush on her own teacher. My stomach turns again and my palms are very clammy. 

 

"I've never been drawn before so I will say that I'm grateful hah," he snickers nervously, fixing his tie and his obvious wrecked nerves make me turn red. Dear god, I hope he can't tell that I am beet red. I start to sweat and it's so uncomfortable.

"Okay, well I guess I should be heading out, see you M-Mr. Gluskin," there goes my stuttering again and I feel like such a dumbass carrying my books like I don't even know what they are, exiting the room quickly. I leave and don't look back. 

 

.

 

Gluskin POV

 

I arrive home late and the smell of blood still lingers in the air. I shake my head at the thought of that nasty whore and begin to whistle something soft on my way to the top floor. I tap my fingers against the railing on my way towards my bedroom, down the hallway. Her body has already been taken care of but the awful smell just won't leave.

My lips get dry and I lick them before whistling again, pulling open my dresser drawer to retrieve my zippo lighter. It's old, cracked and needs to be refilled but I open it up and flick the thumb wheel. A tiny little flame appears suddenly and I smile. 

I close the drawer and head back downstairs to light some candles. As I do so, now standing in the kitchen, I light the candle wicks, hum a tune while loosening my tie and my thoughts go back to Mr. Park and his wonderful drawing. What a mysterious boy he is; I have never been so curious of anything like I am of him. My humming turns to silent singing and I think of the young man. I shake my head a few times and leave the kitchen. I find other candles and carefully light each of them with him on my mind. 

No, I can't think like that, I just can't! Such filth that floods my body and soul but I try, I truly try to stop thinking at all yet he still finds a way inside me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems Waylon and Eddie are not so different

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally updated WOO! This update is only about Waylon and Eddie's struggles in life and stuff like that...nothing big to worry about. The next update will be very soon though and I hope you readers do enjoy this! by the way, it's very short...sorry

Leaving the school, I flee to my truck somewhere out in the parking lot and jump inside. I'm pissed, hurt and nauseated. My emotions are all over the place and I struggle to believe what I am currently feeling. I shift my eyes outside the windshield and take a look at the grey overcast above and look back down at my shaking hands on the steering wheel. I think about Lisa and Miles, what assholes; suddenly my mind becomes overpowered by thoughts of Mr. Gluskin. I don't know why I think about that man but I do. 

 

My heart picks up speed and my forehead becomes damp within seconds. I'm worrying too much about everything, this anxiety shit drives me insane! While I stare at the worn leather around the steering wheel, beneath my sweaty palms a low rumble is heard in the far distance just beyond the mountain tops.

I keep my attention on the wheel and tighten my brows. I got to get out of here before I have another break down. Wherever Lisa is I don't care at the moment. I find my car keys in my front pants pocket and stick the correct one into the vehicle. I give it a quick turn to the right and listen to the awful sputter the old engine makes as it tries to start up. 

 

"Damn!" I curse and shake my head, giving it another try. Another sputter but it kicks into gear and I feel the seats shake beneath me; I put the truck into reverse, look over my shoulder and turn out of the parking lot and make my way onto the dirt road behind the school. It takes at least twenty five minutes or maybe longer to get to the cabin but I don't mind the drive; all the pine trees and big oaks bring me a strange kind of peace and I really like it. It's also very quiet out here and that's exactly what I need. 

 

I roll down my window, it's a manual and I invite the cool breeze inside, sticking my left arm outside. The autumn air is wonderful, bobbing and weaving through my hair and offering me it's amazing pine scent. I am very glad I reside out here, the small town life is okay but I'm more of a nature person just like my mother.

 

.

 

It takes me a while to get to the cabin but once I arrive and park the truck in the grass beside the house I jump out and the minute I do, the sprinkles turn into bullets and I run straight up to the porch, cursing as I do. I turn back around and face the pouring rain, casually wiping my shoes on the welcome mat against the door. A smile tickles my lips and I shift my attention to the door and grab the handle and push forward but I come to find that it's locked. Lisa must not be home yet, oh well, more time for me to be...alone, I guess. 

 

I pull out my keys from my pocket and unlock the door. I push open the door and sneak inside. The cabin isn't really big but it's the perfect size for Lisa and I, one bedroom and one bathroom. The kitchen is probably the smallest room in the house but that doesn't matter to me, Lisa is usually the only one that cooks so...I close the door and flick the light switch on that resides right beside the door, watching the gaudy chandelier above light up the entire room with a lovely warm ambiance. I shake my head for no real reason and head into the bedroom. When I enter the room, I instantly flop myself onto the bed and close my eyes.

 

I think about all kinds of things the moment my eyes shut. I breathe softly through my nose and spread my arms wide, my legs just hanging off the foot of the bed. I listen carefully to the sound of the rain hitting the roof and admire the smell of wet wood and strong pine coming in through the cracks and crevices of the cabin. Lisa, why did you just leave me? What were you and Miles thinking when you guys just left me this morning? I don't think I will ever get over what they did, it sounds silly of me but I don't think I will; the way my brain works is like a puzzle to everyone elses. I know I have some problems, I can't lie to myself, even though I wish sometimes I could. 

 

I drift off into a sleepy state and let go of every little thing. 

 

Gluskin POV

 

I open my eyes to a brand new day but it's anything but beautiful. I sit myself up in bed, let out a soft yawn and bring each leg out from underneath the warm confines of my blanket. The carpet beneath my feet is soft and I smile remembering sweet, sweet memories of this room when I was just a boy. I then push those thoughts aside and stand up and walk over to the window. I push back the little curtain and look up into the sky; it's dark and grey, gives me quite a melancholy feeling.

 

It's a Friday but I take each day like I do any. I step back from the window and run a hand over my face, while using the other to brush back unwanted strands of hair. One out of many things I can't stand in this world is something out of place and untidy; I keep myself as clean as can be, take out any wrinkle, pick away any piece of hair from my clothes and I try to comb my hair back without having a hair pop up but it usually happens and I have to use a minimal amount of hairspray, which I don't enjoy using. I do not like putting any kind of chemical or harmful substance in my hair or anywhere near my body but when I have to I make sure, every time that it's just a tiny bit.

 

I let out another yawn and enter the bathroom to take my morning shower. It's only ten minutes every shower and I don't mind the time, I can get myself very clean without having to worry. My reflection disgusts me, everything about me just makes my stomach turn. 

 

My jaw tightens and I feel my heart begin to race; I don't like feeling this way, it's just an awful, painful burning in my chest that never leaves. I exit the room without any clothing covering me and drop to the foot of my bed, reaching my hands up to hold onto the metal bedframe so very tightly. I want to scream, cry, I want to...want to, I want these pains to leave me alone! Why, why me? How come I was treated like a filthy animal as a boy when I tried my damn hardest to be good, I have always been different but I never deserved to be hit, pushed around and...and tortured by my own loved ones! Mother knew I was a good boy, the only son she ever wanted so why did she let them hurt me so bad? Nobody loves me, nobody on this fucking earth gives a shit about me and it tears me apart knowing that, it truly does. I'm not a good man, never was good, I suppose my beatings, the abuse was meant to happen because I am a poor lost soul, have been all my life.

 

I'm forever stuck in my own world, lost without anyone there to hold onto.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days seem to get stranger and stranger for Waylon Park; nothing ever makes any real sense

Another start of a long day at Mount Massive High, ugh, I just want it to be over already and the clock isn't even close to showing nine o'clock. I'm sitting in Mr. Trager's Science class, trying my best to keep my eyes open but something is fighting against me, telling me to close my eyes and go to sleep. I don't need damn sleep, what I need is to get out of here. I let my head fall into the palm of my hand and blink away the strange exhaustion that comes over me but it doesn't leave entirely. I'm confused, sick and annoyed with myself right now and now that I think about it, I don't know if I took my pills this morning or not.

 

The bell must have gone off already because when I peel open my eyes I can only see Mr. Trager sitting behind his desk, looking straight ahead at me. My vision is a little bit blurred but nothing terrible, my head is pounding though and my stomach rumbles.

 

I let a sigh pass my chapped lips and drop my head onto the table again. "Mr. Park, Mr. Park are you feeling alright?" Mr. Trager asks and I can hear worry in his voice. I shift in my seat and bring my head up again to find him right in front of me. Shit, he can really scare the crap out of someone! My raging pulse calms down after a minute or so of being frightened by the thin man and I scoot out from underneath the table, grabbing my science book. "I-I'm fine," I say to him as quickly as possible and without looking back I dart out of the room and make my way through the long hallways.

 

Geez, why do I have to be such a dick! I don't have my watch on today and I can't really see the clocks from way down here so I just speed walk through the hall and unfortunately, with my kind of luck I run into Mr. Blaire again, what the hell is going on? The dark haired man doesn't look too happy to see me this time and I can only imagine what kind of speech he's going to give me. 

 

"Mr. Park, late for class and running through my halls again, huh?" the cocky principle states and wanders up closer to me. I hold my book underneath my arm and use my other hand to hold it in place. My eyes instantly drop to the floor but Mr. Blaire snaps his fingers and the echo causes me to look right up at him. His blue eyes stare deeply into mine and I get a terrible feeling that leaves me with goosebumps. "My office, now!" he's pissed and that is obvious but why? Why the hell do I have to go to his damn office just because I was speed walking down the dumb hallway? Uh! I follow the man down the hall, into another one and then down that one as well. 

 

He stops abruptly by his office door and I narrow my eyes, holding onto my books even tighter. "You first Mr. Park, go on," the older man rushes me, settling a hand over my shoulder. The surprised contact makes me retaliate only a little bit, pushing his hand off but that doesn't stop him from touching me. My books suddenly slip from underneath my arm and land onto the floor with a soft thud, right beside Mr. Blaire's feet. I shake my head and bend down to one knee, taking a quick peek at his black leather cap toe derby dress shoes. How I can even recognize the type of shoe I might never really know. "Get up Mr. Park, don't waste my time!" Mr. Blaire growls and I feel my body shake beyond my control, reaching for my books. Once I pick them up and hold them against my chest instead, that's when he gets extremely close, so damn close I can feel the heat of his breath, the strong scent of his nasty cologne and a tad of filthy aftershave. 

 

I don't speak, I don't dare say a word when he's this close. "What is with the tardiness all of the time Mr. Park, what's been holding you back these past few days?" he asks and tilts his head a little bit to the side, eying me like some kind of predator. I swallow and it's loud; "I-I can't tell you, Mr. Blaire, I can't tell you because I don't know," the words coming out of my mouth make me hiss, nothing that I just said really made any sense. 

Mr. Blaire narrows his eyes and licks his chapped lips, moving to my right, eying me still. "Do you happen to know anything about Ms. Jamison, Mr. Park, she hasn't been coming to school regularly, in fact I haven't seen her in a few days, do you know anything about that?" Mr. Blaire asks out of the blue and I feel my brows tighten at the strange question. Is he accusing me of something because that's exactly what it sounds like. 

"No, I don't even talk to her so why would I know anything?" I hurry up and speak, watching the man round me and I can feel his gaze bore right through me. God, what is up with all the teachers and even the principle being fucking insane? 

 

I can hear Mr. Blaire mumble something incoherent under his breath and it just gives me the chills. I want to leave this damn room, I really do! My hands start to shake again and sweat dampens my forehead, I can feel the heat of it. With one free hand, I brush away stray hairs from my face and try to keep my composure. The ticking of the clock near the large picture window behind Mr. Blaire's desk makes my teeth grind. It's so damn loud and I nearly jump with every tick. I need to keep calm, I need to just breathe, squeeze my books or something before I lose all control. 

 

"Well whatever Mr. Park, I will figure out what's going on in your mind one way or another, you earned yourself a detention unfortunately for running my halls and for being late again!" he explains to me, his voice loud and demanding. He makes his way over to his desk and pulls open the top drawer. I watch him and as I do I continue to shake. My shakes instantly turn to jitters and that's never a good sign. 

 

He's writing something down and slams his pen down onto the face of his desk, looking over at me with a grizzly kind of stare. "Here Mr. Park...have a great day!" I take the detention slip quickly from his fingers and bolt out of the room. Fuck, did I just do it again? When I am far from his office, I hurry to get my ass to gym class but after getting myself dressed in my required attire, I head into the gymnasium only to realize that everyone is gone. Damn, they are probably outside, where else can they be if not outside or is it just 'pick on Waylon' day?

 

I exit the gymnasium and without speed walking, well maybe I speed walk a little I bump into the wrong person at the wrong time. Miles Upshur. What he's doing outside of class I don't know and don't care but when our eyes meet, we stare too long. 

"Waylon, hey man," the bastard says to me, trying to be all cool and buddy buddy with me again but instead of me listening to what he's about to say, I brush on passed him and leave him behind. I refrain myself from looking back over my shoulder, I don't want to. He's been my best friend for a long time and I can see that our relationship is finally teetering. 

Fuck him and fuck...fuck Lisa too! I'm pretty much aimlessly wandering the many halls of the school, not paying attention to anything, not caring, not worrying, nothing at all. I shove my sweaty hands into the pockets of my gym shorts and watch the tips of my shoes as I walk forward.

 

"Waylon, Waylon, hey!!" someone...something is calling out to me, something that I don't want right now, don't need to mess with right now but it doesn't stop saying my name. "Waylon!" the voice screams my name pathetically and now I realize the face that is behind the loud voice. I don't lift my head up because I already know who it is before me and I stare at my scuffed shoes, thinking about certain things, feeling certain ways. "Man, I'm sorry about the other day, I really am, Lisa is too," Miles keeps telling me things that I don't want to hear. I want to push him away, run away or just leave this place and never come back.

 

My eyes burn and my nostrils flare. I feel my body temperature rise and I take in a deep breath. "Things just happen..." Miles goes on and on and my head begins to fall into a wild spiral of complete nonsense. I raise my head and take a look at the man before me. He looks genuinely worried and upset, maybe I should just get over it and forgive him. Things do happen, things happen all the damn time!

 

"Y-you both did it, you both left me, you are both selfish assholes!" I scream loud enough for anyone to hear me and my voice echoes throughout the hallway, so that can't be any help. Miles takes a step back when I raise my voice and his eyes dart down to the floor. "I-I got to tell you something Waylon...I'm so sorry, god, Lisa and I didn't wake you up because..." Miles pauses suddenly, running a hand over his face, the look of sorrow and guilt defining his features. There is something so awfully wrong, I want to run, I don't want to know what he is about to confess, I just don't!

 

"Stop, don't say another word, just don't!" I throw both of my hands out in front of Miles and the execution truly shuts him up. He's looking at me now like some abused little puppy. God, what is going on with my life? I should be having the time of my fucking life but I haven't even come close to having a goddamn good time yet.

 

"Way...Waylon," is all that Miles mutters right as I turn around to continue my aimless wandering. I feel sick, very, very ill and my body is overheating drastically. I don't even know if I look the same anymore, an awful shitty feeling washes over me and I stumble over my own two feet. Why don't I just go back and run out the two front doors? I need some air, just a little will help. When I get back to my feet, I hold my stomach and a cramp captures my right calf muscle and the strength of the grip has me on my knees again. Fuck! Maybe I will just lay here, I don't think anyone will come and help, so why not lay wherever I want? The urge to vomit is strong and my head is spinning. My hearing fades too soon and I end up whimpering softly, sitting with my back against the wall and even the wall disappears, I no longer feel a thing.

 

.

 

I open my eyes to clouds, nothing but grey clouds. My mind is currently empty and my vision is still gone, not completely but almost. I suddenly begin to feel again and the moment I do, pain seeps into my skin and digs deep within my muscles, pulling and tugging, getting every last bit of my attention and moans of pain. "No need to worry, I will take care of you, Mr. Park," a voice, a very familiar voice brushes passed the fuzz in my ears and all I can do is wince and wiggle against the strange cushion behind and beneath me. My head slowly goes drifting to the side and I hit my temple against something fairly hard. I don't know if I cuss or not but whatever I say or do causes the voice to speak to me again.

 

"We are almost there, please try to relax, I don't want you to hurt yourself," the voice is soft and comforting and there is a distinct accent I can recognize right away. I do try to relax, I take the stranger's advice and melt back into the cushion behind me. My head rests against the hard siding I knocked against it earlier and I close my eyes. There is constant rocking and brain damaging bumps; where the hell am I exactly? My eyes open again but the clouds are still there. 

 

"Close your eyes, relax..." the voice grows even softer and I listen without question. The pains won't leave me alone though, no wonder I am constantly shifting and whimpering like a shitfaced alcoholic. Maybe somebody does care, I guess there are people out there that want to really help someone like me. I drift off into another world and find myself lost; I don't ever want to leave.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things begin to change between a teacher and his student; between friends, things get crazy

Mr. Park opens his lovely eyes at last and when they come to meet my own, he jumps up so suddenly. His involuntary movement startles me and I rest my hands on his arms, helping him sit back down. The second I touch him though, I swallow thickly and sit down myself, losening my tie a little bit. He continues to look at me with such bewilderment and surprise in his sandy brown eyes and I sit up straight, as erect as possible and hand him a cup of warm tea. 

 

"Mr-Mr. Gluskin?" he struggles to speak my name and I can only smile in his wonderful attempt. I admire the boy's voice and the way my name sounds rolling off of his tongue. Lord, what did I do to deserve such a wonderful being in my life?

I'm still leaning over the coffee table with the cup in my hand, waiting patiently for him to take it from me. "I hope that I didn't frighten you, Mr. Park," I say to him with a faint smile, feeling a bit guilty for watching him sleep just moments ago. The young man takes the cup and I sit back down and watch him take the first sip. He shakes his head and drinks it all gone. 

 

"N-no Mr. Gluskin, but I am a bit curious as to why I am here, is this your house?" he asks and I can see his nerves get the better of him, poor boy, there is no need for him to get so anxious in my presence. I give him a bright smile and nod my head. "Yes it is, you can take a look around if you would like," I offer and lean over again to take the cup from him. He hands it over slowly and I notice the little shake of his hand. It worries me but I grab the cup and brush the unwanted thought aside for now. Mr. Park stands up from the couch and looks just as spooked and timid as a wild animal, arms crossed very tightly against his chest.

 

His demeanor makes me just as nervous. "Mr. Park, if you don't mind me saying, there is no need for you to be so anxious, seeing you all knotted up makes me, well it just makes me think something is wrong," I explain myself to him, standing up to meet Mr. Park's lovely eyes. My muscles begin to tighten and twist but I manage to keep my composure. It's just a little hard to do so while in the same room with such an interesting individual. 

 

The young man cracks a genuinely sweet smile and I can't help but give him one in return, standing by his side. "I-I'm sorry, it's just that...well I woke up in your house, I think waking up in a stranger's house would make anyone feel the way I do, but don't worry, I'm fine," he says to me with another one of his sweet smiles and lays a curious eye onto the pictures lined up along the fireplace mantel. I take a single step backward and slide my hands into the pockets of my dress pants, watching him gaze at the photos.

 

"I suppose so, Mr. Park," I respond quietly, staring at the back of his head, losing my sight in his deep golden curls. I don't realize how long I am staring until the young man turns around and lightly brushes his hand against my elbow, startling me. "Oh, sorry, didn't mean to scare you, heh, I just wanted to tell you just how much I admire your home, I mean, the house itself looks like an antique," the young man comments and oh that smile of his can definitely be the end of me. I don't truly know how to react to such words, so I loosen my tie one last time and swallow as subtly as I can, staring off at one of the photos. "I love the old stuff and your house is just full of it, Mr. Gluskin...I-I hope I didn't say anything wrong," Mr. Park's voice falls tremendously soft and my eyes quickly return to his. 

 

"Not at all, it's just that I haven't had any company for very long time and that probably doesn't sound to normal to you does it?" realizing what I had just said to him, I examine Mr. Park's warm features closely but there's nothing there but tenderness and understanding. I'm suddenly relieved. "No but one thing I don't understand," he begins and my heart stiffens in my chest as I brush a hand over the top of my head. 

 

"What's that Mr. Park?" I ask, my composure the one thing that's worrying me when I look into his suspicious gaze. He clears his throat just before moving his peach lips once again. "How can someone like you be...single?" oh dear, that question...Mr. Park is quite the curious little thing. I pat down on my dark hair and give him a strange smile without any intention of giving him one. How do I answer that without revealing everything to him? My eyes scan the room, doing my best not to let them linger on the young man too long. 

 

Mr. Park flicks his wrist and release a little chuckle that has my full attention. "You don't have to answer, I shouldn't be asking my own teacher questions like that anyway, sorry," he apologizes and I shake my head, leading him into the kitchen. 

 

"Don't be sorry Mr. Park, I haven't met the right woman yet if that answers your silly question," I say to him with a surprised chuckle and he's close beside me, taking in every little thing while we walk through the narrow hallway. "Damn, you have such an amazing interior, Mr. Gluskin, I'm still in complete awe," I come to an abrupt stop and look down at him, biting on the inside of my mouth. What an awful word for such a beautiful man, language like that is foul! I stop Mr. Park with my hand on his small shoulder. He turns his head away from the wall and stares up at me, surprised by the contact and expression I must be giving him. "Those kinds of words are not allowed in my house, Mr. Park, and coming from you, it just doesn't fit, you are too perfect for such vulgarity," my head shakes and my lips form into a weak smile. I feel so content being close to him, my hand over his shoulder gently squeezes and the look he gives me when I bring my attention back down startles me. I must be frightening him, oh Eddie, why must you do such things?

 

"I-I am sorry, my friends, well, I used to be around someone who cusses like a sailor, I don't think I'll do it again, Mr. Gluskin," Mr. Park's choice of words calm my nerves and my mind. What a sweet boy, I wonder what time it is. When we step into the kitchen, Mr. Park is looking around the new room like a newborn. It excites me yet it worries me just the same; I feel sweat collect in the palms of my hands and quickly wipe them off on my pants, taking a seat at the center table. 

 

I watch him, watch his every move. He's very swift with those slender legs, curious with gorgeous brown eyes and careful with his hands. What a boy, what an amazing boy. "Mr. Gluskin?" I jump at his soft voice and swallow, standing up from the table. I cross both of my hands behind my back and make my way over towards him. "Yes, Mr. Park?" I acknowledge the young man, inching over to his right side, capturing his sweet gaze. "I know what happened...at the school, I passed out, I-I have problems Mr. Gluskin and I don't want you to have to deal with my bull sh—crap," he suddenly corrected himself and I smile but what he has told me bewilders me, it touches me in the strangest of ways. 

 

"You do not have problems, Mr. Park but you are very interesting and that's what makes you different from anyone I have ever met," I know what I say to him and unwittingly my hand touches his shoulder again. He's so close right now, oh dear lord, he's very close and I swear if I don't back away soon, I'm going to fall victim to him. The young man cracks a smile and I notice the pretty shade of pink melt into his freckled cheeks. He directs his eyes down to the floor, again amazed at the mosaic tile floor. I mean every word I said, he's wonderful!

 

"Thank you..." he says to me in a very tiny whisper, obviously embarrassed by the color in his cheeks. I lightly press my fingers into his shoulder and his eyes find mine. We pause so suddenly. "I-I think I should leave, I mean, Lisa might worry..." he hurries to inform me; Lisa, I have seen Ms. Walters wandering the halls and in my art class but I had no idea they were an item? I assumed they were close acquaintances. 

 

Something twists inside of my chest and I chew on the inside of my cheek. He's taken! "Oh crap, I forgot about detention, crap crap CRAP!" he snaps wildly and I can tell his urge to curse is strong but he's a good boy and watches what he says. Mr. Park leaves my presence rather quickly and I find him in the living room, holding his head in his hands. 

 

"Mr. Park, no need to fret, I talked to Mr. Blaire about your detention, everything is alright," I tell him carefully, reaching out a hand to comfort him but he doesn't allow me to this time. "I found the slip in your pocket, but I threw it away," I inform him some more and there is a single tear rolling down his face. I hear myself growl from deep within and force my hand higher on his shoulder, my fingers brushing against his warm neck. 

"I'm stupid...god, so stupid, take me home please, Mr. Gluskin?" he asks me pathetically and I tighten my fingers. "Of course, anything for you Mr. Park," I whisper to him and lead him out the front door. 

 

.

 

Waylon POV

 

The minute I step inside the house, I see Lisa and Miles on the couch, tears falling down her face. What the hell is going on...again? I look at them and they both look up at me. Miles stands up and makes his way over towards me. I furrow my brows and back away from him but he grabs me and forces me to stay. "Why are you here?" I ask, pushing Miles's hands off of me, glaring at him wickedly. He looks at the space between us and then back up at me, scratching at the back of his head. "That's what I am going to talk to you about, Waylon..." what Miles says to me afterwards has my head spinning and my heart aching. I leave the house and take the longest drive through the woods...I don't care...I don't feel, I just want to...ugh!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waylon may be losing some friends but he's earning one he will never forget; things get interesting between Waylon and the ones who betrayed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Well, finally updated! Anyway, this chapter was okay in my opinion and I think I could have added a tad more detail but I guess it will have to do. I hope you readers out there enjoy it, it gets interesting!

I don't really know where it is that I am going but the further I drive through the woods, the more lost I become, the more alone I start to feel. How could he, how could she do this to me? I had always thought from the moment I met Lisa that we were going to be together for, well, longer than we have been. Listening to Miles's poisonous words play over and over in my head make my chest tighten and my palms sweat. I groan below my breath and death grip the wheel, not paying any attention to the oncoming accident. My eyes close and there is nothing but the sound of my own heart beat and darkness. Am I even alive right now, if not, how am I even thinking these words to myself, how do I even have a conscious? Part of me hopes to some kind of god that I am dead. At least in the afterlife, no one will hurt me anymore.

 

"Waylon...Waylon," I wake to a soft familiar voice; I ultimately remember the voice and I growl wildly, kicking and thrashing all about or at least attempt to before going suddenly still with a muffled groan. I can't do much at all seeing that I am laying here in a large amount of pain with tubes of all kinds sticking out of my arms. I close one eye and leave the other open, examining the foggy room around me. It's Miles, no Lisa in sight just Miles. I am pissed and I hurt bad but I try to keep myself as calm as possible; the little amount of movement I make wrecks my entire body and causes me to let out involuntary whimpers of pain. 

 

I grit my teeth and tighten my jaw, looking over at Miles with one eye. "Get the hell out!!" I shout as loud as my sore throat will me and I sit upright against the many pillows stacked up behind me, turning my eyes away from him. I can hear his shoes squeak against the floor and half the bed caves in when he takes a seat beside me. Damn him!

 

"I told you I was sorry, I am so sorry man and I wish it never happened...I just-" he pauses suddenly and I roll my throbbing eyes, tapping my fingers anxiously against the wrinkled sheets around me. I feel his body get closer to mine. "I just don't want you to-to hate me, Waylon, you're my best friend," his voice cracks and it gets softer by the second. I don't want to listen to him anymore, I don't care what he has to fucking say!

 

I remain quiet until a man in white walks into the room. He must be my doctor; "Tell him to leave, he won't fucking listen to me," I groan and point my thumb over at Miles, turning my eyes to the large picture window to my far left. I may be acting childish but I don't care right now, I just want Miles to leave my presence. I am tired of his scent lingering around. I listen to the doctor and Miles have a small conversation and the backstabber finally leaves the room. I am ultimately relieved but I don't feel so good. I don't hate Miles, I really don't but I can't have him around me right now. Right now I just want to be held or at least touched to soothe my many aches and pains. 

 

Whatever drug the nurses had given me they are wearing off. "He's right around the corner," I hear an unfamiliar female voice direct and when I draw my attention away from the window and to the open doorway, my entire body stiffens and I can't really breathe. He's here, the only person I'd rather see right now. "Mr-Mr. Gluskin," I whisper aloud and watch the tall well-dressed man enter the room with a look of guilt or something close to it displayed across his face. It's strange to see him like this but why should I worry, he's only my teacher. 

 

"I heard what had happened Mr. Park, I had bumped into Ms. Walters in the grocery store and she told me the whole story, I'm so sorry this happened to you," the man tells me, standing awkwardly beside my bedside with his hands behind his back. What does he mean by 'whole story'? Lisa would never let out anything personal to a complete stranger, well, I suppose Mr. Gluskin isn't a stranger but still, it's not like her. 

 

"What do-do you mean?" I ask the man beside me and fidget from the constant pain, giving him my full attention. I watch his electric blue eyes examine my injured face and raise a hand to hide the ugly bruises from him while I wait for an answer. 

 

"Well you hit a tree didn't you Mr. Park, she found you out in the middle of the woods bleeding heavily, she looked in so much shock when I ran into her, that young woman must really care about you Mr. Park," the older man gives me more than just an answer and I find myself staring at him like some creep. I nod my head once and hold my cheek, gazing down at my knees hidden beneath the stark white sheets. 

 

Silence soon overpowers the two of us and it causes the atmosphere to become very awkward. The man takes a seat on the chair beside the bed with a soft creak and stares down at his two hands. "I-I'm glad you came Mr. Gluskin, I didn't think you cared so much," a nervous chuckle escapes my chapped lips and I lick them, turning my head away to hide the pink across my cheeks before he sees. "I care deeply for you Mr. Park, well, I suppose that came out a little bit strange but I care, I truly do," he confesses and all I can do is smile. 

 

I return my eyes to him and find his eyes on me. We smile at each other and start up a random conversation that gets the two of us laughing all over the place. There is still pain but I ignore it, or at least try to for him. I don't want him to worry more than he already has. 

 

A couple long hours have come and gone just like that and Mr. Gluskin is still here. I'm a little surprised he didn't want to leave but that must mean he honestly cares. "I can see that you had broken your arm, god, I wish you didn't have to endure that kind of pain Mr. Park and where is Ms. Walters, shouldn't she be here visiting you?" I raise my head and graze my eyes over towards his doing my hardest to keep away the unwanted tears. I can't believe how strong I am being, it's taking so much out of me. 

 

"Well she should but we-we are not really talking anymore," my voice cracks a little and my body jerks involuntarily at how weak I sound to my own ears. The man brushes a large hand over the top of his dark undercut and brings his eyes down, staring at the space between his spread knees. I lick my chapped lips again and rub at the hard cast around my left forearm. 

 

"Well that's a shame, Ms. Walters must not have known how sweet a person you are," the light blue eyed man brings his head up and we stare at each other again and this time our eyes linger for a moment too long. Mr. Gluskin definitely has a way with words and he knows just how to make my heart pick up the pace but I can't let my feeling get out of hand, he's a man so am I, I'm not even twenty years old yet. 

 

He's just a friendly man and I always enjoy his company. "Thanks I guess," that's all that I can say, feeling my entire face heat up at the very second I let those words pass my lips. He nods his head and sits up straight with his hands crossed into his lap. "Are you hungry, I can get you something to eat Mr. Park?" Mr. Gluskin breaks the incoming silence and stands up, looking down at me. I give him a frown and then smile. He doesn't have to treat me so...what's the word, special, I'm nothing special. "A bag of chips would be okay," I shrug my shoulders and wince when a powerful shock enters my broken arm, melting into the tips of my fingers. 

 

I watch him smile. "Okay, I will be right back," the tall man leaves the room and when he does I can finally release all the hot air I have been holding in since the second he arrived. That man makes me nervous but not in a bad way. While he's away, I can think to myself about everything that has happened to me, how and when I have been hurt, who has hurt me and why they hurt me. I don't fully understand why it has been me that they all pick on. At just the age of nine, I got my first taste of what a leather belt feels like across my bare skin. The person behind it was my father, my fucking crazy ass father.

 

I try not to notice if the marks are still there when I get dressed and undressed; those are memories I wish I can no longer remember. Mr. Gluskin returns and his wonderful scent returns with him. "A bag of chips and a chocolate bar," the man says with a smile and walks over to the bed and sets the two items down. 

 

He takes a seat beside me on the chair again and watches me move slowly. I look up at him and his smile vanishes. "Is it Friday or Saturday?" I ask out of the blue and carefully pick up the chocolate bar first. Mr. Gluskin's blue eyes follow my movements and his lips begin to move. "It is Friday, early evening, would you like me to stay any longer, Mr. Park?" the man suddenly rears off into a different question and I finally get the candy bar opened and take the first bite. 

 

He's very sweet and caring but I don't think he should waste all of his time in a damn hospital. He looks anxious enough. "You stayed long enough Mr. Gluskin, I don't want you to spend your whole night in this place," I explain to him and take another bite just after swallowing the first. I watch him fidget in the chair and he looks down at his hands. "I'd rather stay Mr. Park," the large man says back to me in such a soft voice and I stop chewing the chocolate for a minute and swallow it slowly. Damn, do I really have to swallow that loud? "Okay..." is all that I say and continue to eat the chocolate bar, staring off into the white wall ahead of me. 

 

I wonder how long it's going to take for my arm to heal, fuck! I don't want to go back to school looking like a broken mess and I definitely don't want to get bitched at by Mr. Blaire because of it. Ugh, nothing ever goes the right way for me. I suppose as long as Mr. Gluskin stays, I'll be a little bit calm and comfortable. 

 

.

 

The next time I open my eyes, it's dark, nothing but darkness all around me. I sit upright against the pillows and look around the room trying to find the clock. Well I found it but it's across the room high on the wall next to the TV. There is no way I can see it. 

 

There is darkness outside the window so it must be late. My mind is racing and my hands are shaking. Maybe the doctors don't know that I have to take my meds at this time of night. God, now that's going to be another problem for me. As I shift around in bed, trying to get comfortable, I look to my right to see if Mr. Gluskin is still here. When I come to find that he's not I become worried and a bit sad. I let out a sigh and close my eyes, resting my head into the pillows. If I can fall asleep fast enough, maybe I won't have to take any kind of pill, but no, it doesn't turn out the way I hoped. The first thing I notice when I close my eyes is my racing heart beat and the voices. Shit!

 

Why, why does this shit have to happen to me! My legs kick and my arm jerks beyond my own control. I can hear myself scream and curse like some kind of caged animal and out of the darkness, from beyond the cold dark nothingness hands grab at me in several places and apply a good amount of pressure. 

 

Hot wave of tears roll down my face and I can't really think. I know what's happening but I can't control anything I'm doing. A large body comes crashing into me suddenly and I am almost breathless the second the hands pull me into it and slowly I am brought back to reality. It takes some time for me to calm down and my body to react to the world around me but soon I am back where I should be and I begin to realize who the person is that rescued me. 

 

The strong, tantalizing smell of cologne and the welcoming scent of dry cleaned clothing. It's my art teacher. He continues to hold me and I let him because the feeling of him, of his warmth is powerful. I never want to leave this embrace he's pulled me into. Slowly I bring my good arm up and around to his back, letting my hot fingers burn into his clothes. "I'm here...everything will be alright Mr. Park, I won't let anything hurt you again," is what he whispers to me, into my hair and I let my forehead hit his shoulder. I cry some more and he gently rubs my aching back. 

"I won't let anyone hurt you," he says one last time before I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.


End file.
